


I Didn't Want You To Be Alone

by WinterXAssassin (orphan_account)



Series: I Am Yours And You Are Mine [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Awesome Sam Wilson, BAMF Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky is a little shit, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Healing, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Love Confessions, Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson Friendship, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Poor Bucky Barnes, Post-Movie(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Relationship Issues, Relationship Problems, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wakanda, i mean about damn time, romanogers - Freeform, ugh finally these two get their shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-06-06 17:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6762823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/WinterXAssassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was the sun, and she was the moon. And when they eclipsed, the whole world exploded. </p>
<p> <em>"Then what are you doing here?"<em></em></em><br/><em>"I didn't want you to be alone." <em></em></em></p>
<p> <br/>Steve is lost in the world. Natasha is, for the first time, struggling. Both of them are in pain, but together, maybe, just maybe, they can heal each other. Set after Civil War. Some spoilers. Rating may go up to M in some parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All These Thoughts

**A/N: I couldn't help myself. I made another Romanogers fanfic. Set after Civil War (some spoilers), and completely unrelated to all my other fics. Flashbacks are in italics. Enjoy! Also posted on Fanfiction.net**

**Song inspiration for this chapter- Never Forget You by Zara Larsson & MNEK**

* * *

 

 Steve was perched on the edge of an armchair in his apartment, chin resting in his hands, thinking.

_"Then why are you here?"_

_"I didn't want you to be alone."_

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, shoulders slumping. She didn't want him to be alone. Did that have a double meaning? _No_. She didn't have feelings for him like he did for her. And he knew that. They were just partners, friends- nothing more, nothing less. _But he wanted more_. However, that wasn't something he could have. He- a knock on the door startled him out of his reverie. He rose from the chair, eyes widened slightly, posture tense, and opened the front door.

"Nat?"

And there she was, wearing a grey hoodie over a black shirt, paired with jeans and her combat boots. She was soaking wet, shivering, even, red hair so dark it was almost black.

Steve frowned slightly, concerned, and stepped aside so that she could come in. "You okay?" he asked softly.

"J-Just got c-caught out in the r-rain. Nothing that h-hasn't happened a few hundred t-times before." she answered with a small smirk, speaking quietly with chattering teeth.

"Nat, you're soaked. Go have a shower, and I'll see if I can find some clothes. I doubt anything of mine would fit you, though." Steve instructed gently, looking a little sheepish.

Natasha cocked an eyebrow, the smirk increasing in size slightly. "Lucky I left a pair of leggings here, then."

"When did you do that?"

"Last time I was here."

Steve just shook his head, snorting with amusement. "Right. Buuut, I'm guessing you don't have a shirt."

"Looks like I'll have to borrow one of yours then." Natasha said, tone slightly coy.

Steve chuckled. "Looks like it."

 

* * *

 

"What's up?" Natasha asked softly, coming out of the bathroom wearing black leggings and one of Steve's shirts that was way too big for her.

Steve shook his head, looking forlorn. "Just... I-..." He sighed heavily, slumping into a chair. "I allowed Bucky to have freedom of choice and he went back into cryo. Said it was best 'till someone could work out what the heck was up with his mind and help fix it. I-I never even said "see you later" o-or hugged him... or anything. Just let him go." His voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, choking out a sob. "The last time I hugged him was over 70 years ago, Nat! Back when I was still small."

"Hey, hey, hey," Natasha said softly, gently grabbing his face and tucking it against her chest (like how Pepper holds Tony in Iron Man 3), running her fingers through his golden hair. "It's okay, Steve. _None_ of that was your fault. You couldn't have known he survived. You didn't know he had a variant of your Serum running around in his veins. You couldn't have known any of that."

Steve broke down, then, crying with great, wracking sobs that shook his whole frame, and Natasha just held him like that, crooning soft things and running her fingers through his hair. Eventually he pulled away, slowly, slightly hesitantly, and wiped his face, looking at her with teary blue eyes. "Thanks, Nat. That hug you gave me, back when-..." He broke off and glanced down, swallowing and continuing, "It was the first hug I've had from anyone since I came outta the ice. Means a lot, y'know."

Natasha nodded, offering a small smile. "I know. Do you want me to stay?"

Steve looked absolutely grateful for her offer. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks. You can sleep on the bed- I'll take the couch."

"No, there's no chance of that happening." Natasha said firmly, knowing Steve badly needed a constant source of human contact for the next few hours. "We'll share the bed. It's okay- it's not like we're doing anything other than platonic cuddling, anyway."

Steve nodded again. "O-Okay then. If you're sure."

"Of course I'm sure." Natasha's smile increased in size and warmth. "Come on."

 

* * *

 

Natasha awoke the next day, startled to find herself in a room that wasn't hers, in a bed that wasn't hers, head resting on a pillow and body covered by blankets that _weren't hers_. What was going on? She felt something warm and heavy draped over her waist, and she managed to sit upright slightly, jerking when she felt warm breaths on the back of her neck. "What the fu-" she started to say, sitting upright fully.

"Language," a voice bleated sleepily from beside her, and then Steve sat upright next to her.

Suddenly Natasha remembered last night, and she sighed in relief, combing her fingers through her hair. Nothing had happened. Good. She glanced at Steve; he looked better than last night, but that could have been a front, so she decided to ask. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Steve answered, grunting slightly as he stretched. "Longest sleep I've had in awhile. I needed it, too."

Natasha nodded, offering him a small smile. "That's good. Well, looks like my work here is done. See you another time." She leaned over and kissed his forehead, gently ruffling his blonde hair.

Steve's happy expression dropped slightly. "You have to go?" he asked, sounding crestfallen.

Something inside Natasha's gut twisted at Steve's expression and tone of voice, but she shoved it aside. "Yeah. I've got work to do. You have my number. If you need me, don't be afraid to call, okay?"

Steve dipped his head in a nod. "Yeah. Okay. Oh, and I took the liberty of hanging up your clothes for you. They should be dry now."

"Thanks. Although I think I might just keep this shirt. It's nice and comfy."

Steve rolled his eyes good-naturedly, relenting. "Okay, you can take my shirt. I s'pose it doesn't matter."

Natasha laughed, already partway out the door. "Bye, Rogers."

"Seeya Nat."


	2. Blind, Stupid Act

**A/N: Rating goes up to M for sexytimes. Don't read if you don't like it. Song inspiration for this chapter- Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande**

* * *

 

A few days later, Steve was surprised with another visit from Natasha. He opened the door to find her standing there, huddled in on herself ever so slightly, wearing a plain grey shirt and a pair of black leggings. He frowned slightly, immediately concerned when he took stock of her trembling frame, and partly bloodshot haunted green eyes. "Nat? What's wrong?" he asked.

"I..." she started, then faltered and stopped, staring at her boots. "I need you." she whispered, voice wobbling.

"What do you mean?" Steve inquired softly, eyes filled with confusion.

"Steve, _please_ ," Natasha said breathily, meeting his gaze again.

Steve nodded, still confused, and stepped aside to let her inside, shutting the door behind him. Natasha immediately sought out Steve's lips, grasping the collar of his shirt and kissing him passionately. Steve was taken by surprise, and he stumbled back a step when she pressed herself against him, kissing him harder; almost desperately. He instinctually wrapped his arms around her slender form, tugging her flush against his chest as he tangled his fingers in her red hair, _kissing her back_. Natasha gasped sharply, and then jumped upwards, hooking her legs around his waist and locking her fingers in his hair, nipping at his lower lip.

"Are you sure about this?" Steve asked, panting slightly when he pulled away for a few moments.

"I need you, Steve. I'm more than sure." Natasha answered, quite out of breath herself.

"I've never actually-" Steve began to protest, but Natasha silenced him by placing a finger over his lips.

"Shh," she whispered, "That's why it's me who's your first, and not anybody else."

Steve's face reddened slightly, and he let out a short, nervous laugh. "Well, when you put it that way..."

"Shhh," Natasha hushed, silencing him with her lips on his again, looping her arms around his neck. The distraction worked, luckily, because Steve kissed her back, passionately, and murmured huskily in her ear, "Wanna take this somewhere else?"

"Why, Captain, I thought you'd _never_ ask," Natasha purred, tone playful and smirk coy, olive green eyes gleaming with mischief.

Steve scooped Natasha into his arms, carrying her into his bedroom bridal style. He shut the door behind him, locking it, and gently set Natasha on the bed, laying down beside her and wrapping his arms around her once more. Natasha was quick to kiss Steve again, more passionately than ever before, eyes filled with lust. She pressed herself against him, looping her arms around his neck again. "Mm, Steve... Who _ever_ thought you needed more practice?" she murmured.

"Actually, that was you," Steve chuckled, keeping her close to him and letting her kiss him as much as she liked.

"I've changed my mind... you don't need more practice." Natasha said softly, nipping his lower lip.

Steve let out a soft groan, his eyelids fluttering. "Damn, Nat... You're such a tease."

"Oh, mm, but you like it, dontcha?" Natasha purred, pulling his shirt off him in one swift, fluid movement. Lust filled her eyes again, and she bit her lip playfully, eyes roving over his muscles. "You're so big and strong.."

Steve shivered when the cold air hit his bare skin, and he let out a playful, throaty growl, crashing his lips against hers. "You're so damn beautiful, Natalia." her Russian name rolled off his tongue without a second's thought as he kissed her again and again.

Natasha purred lowly, letting her tongue slip inside his mouth. She giggled, and murmured, "Your accent is so rough... so.. mmm..." She pulled away and licked her lips just to tease him, trailing her fingers down the chiselled muscles of his abdomen. "Hmm..." she murmured thoughtfully, setting a hand at his shoulder and trailing it slowly down his stomach, stopping just at his waist. She bit her lip, tugging at the waistband of his jeans, tilting her head slightly with a playful expression. "So muscular..." she purred, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. "Such kissable lips," She leaned up and pressed a fiery kiss to his lips, sucking his lower lip as a distraction whilst she slipped one hand down his pants, pressing it against the lovely bulge in his underwear.

Steve let out a sharp gasp, body jerking. His face flushed red, and he let out a soft moan. "What the hell are you getting at?" he murmured.

Natasha let out a giggle, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm.. I'm sorry, it's just that it's so distracting..." she said softly, leaving her hand there; enjoying his shame and pleasure and excitement. She leaned down and kissed him again, passionately, threading her fingers into his hair.

Steve whimpered against her lips, blue eyes filled with so much _want_ , and cupped the back of her neck, kissing her deeply.

"On moi," Natasha purred huskily, kissing his throat. _You're mine_.

* * *

 

Hours later, Natasha had fallen asleep, still tangled together with Steve, looking so young and peaceful. Steve, however, lay there wide awake and thinking.

_What the hell had just happened?_

_Would this change anything in their relationship?_

_What would become of all of this?_

_What were they doing?_

_What was Natasha thinking? What was HE thinking, making love to her when he truly did love her, and she did not love him?_

_What was wrong with the both of them?_

His thoughts swirled around and around at a million miles an hour, and he'd be damned if he didn't think it started to give him a bit of a headache. Not that it was very easy for him to get a headache, what with his Serum and all, but still. His head was so full of thoughts- the main one being: what the _hell_ were they thinking? Why had she come to him, so frightened and seeking solace? What had gotten her so spooked, so _terrified_ , that it had caused her to do something so blindly stupid it made not an ounce of sense? What was he thinking, giving her what she wanted instead of trying to help her in his usual hug-and-chat manner?

_Had they actually made love, or was it simply a night of trying to help ease the pain?_

_Did Natasha love him like he loved her?_

Eventually he fell asleep, too tired to think straight anymore.


	3. Mental Torment

**A/N: Brief mentions of nudity. And a few cuss words. They are kinda annoyed with each other, so. That's all.**

* * *

 

Natasha awoke with a start, surprised to find herself not in her own bed again, and tangled up with none other than-...

"Steve?!" she squawked in a rather ungainly manner, as she took in the familiar blue eyes and blonde head of hair. "What the fuck?!" she groaned, dropping her head back onto his chest.

"Fuck is right," Steve muttered, sounding angry. He wouldn't meet her gaze, and Natasha didn't know why.

"Steve, what's wrong?" Natasha inquired, trying to read his expression and somehow, for the first time in her life, failing.

"Why don't you look?" Steve asked bitterly, sitting upright

"...What?" Natasha asked faintly, and then the realization hit. She muttered something that sounded like a curse word in Russian, scrambling away from Steve and covering her naked form with the sheets. "What the hell happened?" she demanded.

"I'd like to know the same thing, actually," Steve responded coolly, blue eyes that were usually so soft and kind going hard with anger.

"We need to talk," Natasha said firmly, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, watching him.

"You're damn right we do," Steve snarled softly, rising from the bed and putting his clothes on before tossing hers to her.

* * *

 

Steve was silent, and if the set of his shoulders was any indication, tense. He set a mug of coffee in front of Natasha, watching her with those sharp blue eyes. He leaned on the countertop, his own mug of coffee in front of him. Natasha started to get unnerved by the silence, and so she broke it. "What happened, Steve?"

"You slept with me," Steve replied, looking at her, yet not meeting her gaze. He shook his head, releasing a heavy sigh. "Why? Why me? Out of all the people you could've gone to, why me?"

"I... I don't know, exactly. I came to you because I trust you; you're one of my closest friends." Natasha replied, "I wanted comfort, but... I... Things got out of control. Once I kissed you, I knew there was no going back." She gazed absently into her coffee mug, not bearing to look at Steve any longer.

"Why sleep with me, though? Why not just kiss and talk? Hug, even. But why that?" Steve asked softly, and Natasha heard so much pain in his voice that it hurt her, too. She sighed, shaking her head, shoulders slumping. "Like I said, Steve, I don't know. I was scared, and I needed the comfort. You could've easily said no. But you didn't. Why?" she answered his question with one of her own, and it must have caught him off-guard, because she felt his gaze weighing heavily on her, and she looked up to see him staring at her with a touch of hurt in his baby blue eyes. "I couldn't say no, Nat. You're a friend. You mean a lot to me. You're one of few people who sees me for me, rather than Captain America. I... I don't want to lose you, but..." he sighed, taking a swallow of his coffee. "Somehow, I think I just did." Natasha stiffened at his words, hurt.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I should go." she said, schooling her expression into an impassive mask so that he couldn't see that she was in just as much pain as him, if not more.

"Yeah, you should," Steve's tone held anger, yet he spoke softly. He wasn't looking at her again; his gaze had tracked to the window, and remained there. Natasha stood up, leaving her untouched mug of coffee on the table, walking out the door. She glanced over her shoulder at him once, and tears formed in her eyes at the sight of him staring out the window, not saying a word. "Прощай," she whispered, and then she was gone. _Goodbye_.

Steve looked up when the door closed, and though she was long gone, he whispered three words after her- three words that held so much meaning, and so much truth behind them. "I love you." And then he buried his face in his hands and wept bitterly.

* * *

 

Steve slept badly that night. He and Natasha had parted on bad terms, and it hurt him to lose a friend as good as she was. And to think that maybe someday they could be something more than just friends? _Never_. He really was as naïve as people said he was. Eventually, at around 2 am, he decided he couldn't take it anymore, and slipped on a hoodie, heading out into the streets just to clear his head and think- something he hadn't been able to do for a good two weeks at least. So many thoughts swirled around his head, confusing him, making him question, and in general giving him an irritating ache at the back of his skull which he knew to be a headache. Not being able to calm the raging torrent in his mind, he broke into a jog, feet pounding the pavement, knowing that would help better than walking ever would.

_She loves you._

_No._

_Why else would she look at you like that?_

_She's just a friend._

_Is she? You want more. She does too._

_No, she doesn't!_

It seemed that his head and his heart had gone to war with one another. Letting out an angry yell, he skidded to a stop right outside his own apartment- strange, he must've gone around the block- before sinking to his knees, not caring that it was now pouring rain, causing his hair to become matted and brown, and his clothes to get soaked. _He didn't care_.

* * *

 

Natasha, on the other hand, fared differently. She had gone to bed that night, silent, alone. Upset. She cried herself to sleep, and once she had fallen into that world of sleep, she had dreamt of horrible things. Dark, twisted dreams that left her shaken, waking up sweating and with a cry dying down in her throat. She eventually fell asleep just as the sun's soft rays of dawn peeked through the curtains in her room, worn out from the constant nightmares. The last thought she had as she drifted off, was simple:

_You love him._


	4. What Are We Doing?

**A/N: Prepare yourselves for some more angst. Steve's struggling a bit, poor baby. Some awesome!Sam; and rating will go up to M later on in the chapter.**

* * *

 

Steve went back to Wakanda the next day, keen on making the beautiful country his new temporary home.

_Home_.

He wanted to scoff at the word. He had no home, not really. He had a... place to stay, but it wasn't home. And that was what he so desperately needed: a home. But how could he work out what- or who, more rather- his home would be when he was so messed up?

* * *

 

"I didn't expect to see you here," Steve remarked when he entered his suite of rooms and found Sam Wilson looking for him. The airman shrugged.

"Where else was I gonna go? I'm a fugitive as much as you are. And besides, you're my friend. I can tell something's going on." Steve heaved a sigh, perching on the end of the bed. He gave Sam a slightly tight-lipped smile and shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Ten bucks says you're lying," Sam retorted easily, attempting to use humour to cheer his friend up. Thankfully, it worked. Steve let out a snort of amusement, some of the tension draining out of him as his shoulders drooped. "It's... complicated."

Sam leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. His brown eyes assessed Steve; the blonde was tense- wound like a coiled spring. He tipped his head in an indicator for Steve to continue. "Natasha... She came to my apartment yesterday. Somethin' had her disturbed... Dunno what it was... But, she... she uh... we... we kissed, and..." Steve trailed off, staring out the window with a vacant gaze.

"She slept with you." Sam guessed. Steve jerked, looking at Sam with a sharp expression.

"How did you know?"

_Ah. So that's the issue_. "Dude, your body language is kind of a giveaway. If you two had fought, you'd be pacing up and down, muttering under your breath, not sitting there lookin' like a coiled snake about to strike. Plus... You carry yourself differently." Sam answered.

"What's it to you, anyway?" Steve snapped after five minutes of silence, "Why does it matter if something's wrong with me? I'm fine; leave me alone."

Sam wasn't having any of it. "No. You're not fine; anyone ever told you that you can't lie for shit?"

Steve flinched, and Sam instantly regretted his words. "Natasha," the blonde murmured, suddenly looking tired. Worn. Defeated. _Lost_.

"You love her, don't you." It was a statement rather than a question.

Steve's expression spoke volumes. There was a tiny, slightly sheepish smile playing around the corners of his mouth, his cheeks had reddened slightly, and his blue eyes held a strange light to them. He nodded, ever so slightly, and lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Sometimes I wished I told her sooner. I love her, Sam... A lot more than I've ever loved Peggy. And that's saying something. But... She doesn't love me. She can't... Relationships are hard for her. I'm crazy for her. I love her so much that it hurts." he admitted. 

Sam let out a low whistle, impressed. "Damn, man... That's gotta suck."

There was a sniffle, and then a wobbly, "Yeah." 

"Steve, are you sure you're okay? You don't sound too "okay" to me." Sam queried. Steve's answer seemed so loud in the sudden quiet after Sam's question, yet he could barely be heard at all. "I-I don't know, Sam. I don't think I'll ever be okay, somehow. I'm just... lost."

"I'm sorry, man. I get what that feels like." Sam said sympathetically. Steve choked out a noise that seemed to be an odd amalgamation of a laugh and a sob, and Sam got the feeling that he should go. He backed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

 

Steve jerked awake at 2am, gasping and sweating profusely. He groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face before sitting upright. That was his fifth nightmare _that week alone_ , and his worst so far. He'd been fighting alongside the Avengers again- both old members and new- battling back-to-back with Bucky when all of a sudden he turns and Bucky's the Winter Soldier again and there's a _BANG_ and Natasha's bleeding out all over him and-

"Fuck!"

He'd fallen out of bed sometime in his wild panicking during the nightmare, and he hit his head on the corner of the bed when he tried to get up. He rubbed a hand over the bump on his forehead, and clambered back onto the bed. Suddenly he got the feeling that he was being watched. He slid off the bed again, keen eyes just managing to pierce the darkness and spot a slender figure in the hallway outside his room. Silently, he crept towards the figure, before darting forwards at the last second and slamming his possible would-be assailant against the wall, his arms trapping him- _or her_ \- in place. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"That's not the right way to treat a lady," the figure retorted, and when Steve heard the familiar coy tone, he recognized who the person was immediately.

"Natasha? What the hell are you doing here?" he asked sharply.

"Well, I just thought I'd stop by and see how the other world's most wanted are doing." Natasha responded, "Seems to me you're settling in quite nicely." 

Steve dropped his arms to his side, and took a step back, tilting his head slightly. "Is that all?"

"No," Natasha answered, stepping forward and yanking him down to kiss her. Steve almost recoiled in surprise- and anger- but he was being kissed so passionately that it made his knees buckle. He set his hands at her waist, tugging her close, and tangled his fingers into her fiery red hair. Natasha jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him harder and rendering them both breathless. Steve's back slammed against the wall when she jumped at him, causing him to let out a soft grunt against her mouth. When they were both completely out of breath, they parted, foreheads resting against the other's.

"Back here again, are we?" Steve panted, grinning at her. Natasha smirked, regaining her breath for a few moments longer before she spoke.

"Well, you're pretty hard to resist, Rogers," she said softly.

"I could say the same about you," Steve retorted.

"Shut up and kiss me," Natasha ordered.

"Yes ma'am," Steve willingly complied.

* * *

 

"Someone's eager," Steve teased when Natasha practically ripped his shirt off, mouth hot against his and hands locked in his golden hair. Natasha just ran her hands down his abs in response, before kissing him again, tongue licking at the seam of his lips. He opened his mouth in response, and she sucked on his lower lip, before letting her tongue explore his mouth. Natasha purred, pulling back and smirking at him, green eyes filled with lust. "I just want you, baby," she crooned, looping her arms around his neck and sitting in his lap. "Is that too much to ask for?"

"Hmm..." Steve pretended to think about it, biting his bottom lip teasingly. "No. Not in my books it isn't." he responded, voice deep and husky, his own eyes filled with desire. "'Cause all I can think about right now is you."

"Good," Natasha murmured, kissing him again as she pushed him onto the bed. One hand messed with the button and zipper of his jeans just to taunt him.

"Whoa, easy there tiger," Steve chuckled. Natasha growled playfully in response, kissing him again as she pulled his jeans off.

* * *

 

Natasha curled up against Steve's broad, bare chest, kissing his neck slowly and languidly. The pair of them were tangled together, a single sheet lightly covering their naked forms. Steve was idly playing with Natasha's hair, noting how she was half asleep already. "What are we doing?" he murmured.

Natasha gave a half-hearted shrug in response, laying her head just above his heart and nuzzling closer to him. "I don't know..."

"What are we? Friends with benefits? Lovers? Do we even need a label?" Steve questioned, his other hand tracing circles on her back. Natasha just sighed, pressing a kiss to his jaw before laying back down properly again. "Can we talk about it another time? I wanna sleep... you really wore me out." she muttered. 

Steve exhaled a chuckle, his palm flat and still on her back. "Sure. Promise me we'll talk about it sometime, though."

"Mhmm, whatever. Night, Rogers."

"Goodnight, Natasha."


	5. Brothers

**A/N: Bucky needs a hug. Seriously, reviews are like hugs. Leave a review, and the hug will go straight to Bucky! ^-^**

**By the way, these guys are seriously just brothers. No romance between them because ew. Plus, Romanogers.**

* * *

 

When Steve awoke the next morning, Natasha was long gone.

_As to be expected_ he thought bitterly. He'd asked her to stay at one point during the night, and she said she'd think about it. However, he knew not to expect anything different. For her to stay. Them to talk this- whatever this was between them- out. To finally admit their feelings for each other.

_Not gonna happen_.

He was acting a lot like a love-sick puppy, and it was starting to get on his nerves.

* * *

 

"Captain, there has been an issue with the cryopod; we must wake Barnes up and take him out."

Those words had Steve racing to the laboratory where Bucky's cryopod was. He entered the room, and once everything had been explained to him, he started to pace the room as he waited for Bucky to wake up, anxious.

_Will he even remember being asleep?_

_Does he still remember me?_

_Did his memories ever fade away- and will they do so at all?_

_Will he wake up as Bucky, or will he wake up as the Soldier?_

Finally, when Steve felt a warm, gentle hand on his shoulder, he stopped pacing, and looked at Sam with a relieved expression. "Thank goodness you're here." he said.

"I heard what happened, man. You okay?" Sam asked, voice laced with concern. Steve nodded, sighed, and nodded again.

"Yeah. I just... I'm just... Anxious." He looked to the cryopod again, and bit his lip with worry. _Please be okay, Buck_.

There was a whirring sound and a hiss, and through the cloud of... smoke, Steve could just see the door to the cryopod lifting up. He met Sam's gaze, nodded slightly, and went back to looking at the cryopod once more, blue eyes intense and fixated on his best friend- his _brother_ \- as he was slowly woken up.

* * *

 

A few hours later, it was over. Bucky was fully awake, although not quite 100% alert and aware, and had been informed of what was going on. The Wakandan doctors and scientists had set to work on trying to fix the cryopod, and Bucky had been sent off to his own suite of rooms- right next door to Steve's. Steve, of course, was currently with Bucky, making sure the poor guy was adjusting okay, and kind of being a bit stupidly overprotective by showing him what everything was and how it all worked. Strangely enough, Bucky didn't seem to mind. It was like he was letting Steve chew his ear off. Finally, Steve turned to Bucky, blue eyes meeting blue, and he asked, "Are you sure you're okay, pal?"

Bucky just made an awkward shrugging motion, seeing as he only had one good shoulder right now.

Steve shook his head, sighing. "You can't not know, Buck."

"I haven't known anything except killing in a long time, Steve." Bucky said quietly, staring down at his hands- or rather, hand- before looking back up at Steve again. "It's stupid. I want to remember things. I _try_ to remember things. But with all the good things I remember, there's so many bad things. I've got so much blood on my hands. Yours, too, although I'm damn grateful I didn't kill you."

"I'm sorry, pal," Steve murmured, staring at the floor.

Bucky heaved a sigh. "I know you are. But... you know I can't just... I can't remember everything. It's just not gonna happen. I was wiped too many times; I'm too far gone."

Steve had thought of that once, but immediately dismissed the thought at the time. Now that Bucky had brought it up... "I know. Wish you could remember everythin'. It's my fault you're screwed up like this."

Bucky met his gaze, giving him a typical _you're-so-full-of-shit-Rogers_ face that made him look so much like the old Bucky it made Steve's chest hurt. "What the hell makes you think that?"

Steve shot Bucky an _uhh, really_ look. "Well gee, don't you think it's because _I_ was the one who was too slow to catch you when you fell from that damn train? 'Cause that's how I seem to remember it." he said sarcastically.

"Oh come on, Rogers! Quit blamin' yourself for that!" Bucky snapped. "Do you really think it's your fault? 'Cause if you believe that, then boy, you really are dumb as dog shit. Yeah, I get you were a fraction too slow. I get it. But don't you think that maybe I wasn't trying hard enough either? So in the long run, we're both at fault, which puts neither of us at fault, because why the fuck would both of us be at fault for somethin' that was an _accident_?"

"...What?" Steve asked softly, voice barely audible.

"I just basically said, I forgive you for thinkin' you dropped me off the damn train when actually it was both of us who caused it so then it was neither of us!" Bucky half-snarled, looking irritated, like _fuck, Steve, how can you be so fucking thick? Do I always have to repeat myself 'till I'm blue in the face?!_

Steve went quiet, stunned. "You... you do?" he finally asked.

"Yeah, Steve. Neither of us are at fault. It was an accident. You were a fraction too slow, and I wasn't reaching far enough. So it's okay." Bucky's voice was quieter now; he seemed calmer. "I forgive you. And myself."

"Aw geez, Buck, now you're makin' me cry." Steve wiped at his suddenly-burning eyes.

"Shut up, punk." Bucky's own voice wobbled.

"Why don't you, jerk?" Steve retorted with no heat and a touch of fondness. Both soldiers smiled, and Steve stepped forward to hug Bucky. Bucky stiffened at first, but gradually relaxed, remembering this.

"Brothers 'till the end, right?" he asked, putting his own arm around Steve.

Steve chuckled. "Of course, pal. Brothers."


	6. Little Green Thing Called Jealousy

**A/N: Sorry about the slow update. I had a bit of writer’s block for this chapter. But here it is! Some jealousy, and Nat and Steve finally get to talk about what’s going on between them – not in the way either of them expected.**

* * *

 

Steve was surprised to find a familiar blonde head of hair belonging to one Sharon Carter when he entered the courtyard of the Wakandan palace the next morning. Puzzled, he called her name, and she turned to him with a smile.

“How did you find out where I was hiding?” he asked sternly, blue eyes showing he was totally serious, and not at all wanting to play any kind of games.

“Sam called me. Said it might do me some good to hide here – Ross and Stark are on my ass because they found out I was the one to give you guys back your gear.” Sharon responded, moving just a fraction too close to Steve for his liking.

The blonde supersoldier nodded, leaning one hip against the railing, folding his arms across his chest. “I see,” he replied, “So I take it you’re staying indefinitely?”

“Pretty much.” Sharon answered, giving him another small smile. “How are things?”

“Good... They’re... yeah, pretty good.” Steve didn’t want to tell her that Bucky was here; nor did he want to say he was having a... _thing_ , whatever it was, with Natasha. “What about you? Enjoying the luxurious lifestyle?”

Sharon laughed. “I have to say, although this place is pretty extravagant, it’s not really my style. I’m more of an “apartment city living” kind of girl.”

Steve let out an amused snort. “I kinda miss the city – but at the same time I don’t, y’know? It’s peaceful out here. I can actually sleep for once.”

Sharon nodded agreement, stepping closer still. “It is peaceful,” she said, “Now that you’re not saving the world, do you think that maybe you’ve got some time free to go out and get some coffee sometime?”

Steve blanched, stiffening, but he masked it by schooling his expression to be neutral, glancing out into the courtyard below. “Well, uh...” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. “I mean, I did offer, before SHIELD went to hell and HYDRA revealed itself, but, uh...”

“Are you nervous, Steve?” Sharon put a hand on his arm, smiling at him. “I totally get it if you are, seeing as you’ve never really gone on a date before, as you said.”

Suddenly, a lithe figure melted out of the shadows, and Natasha tapped Steve’s shoulder, smiling sweetly at him – although to the trained eye, it was a fake smile; it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hey, Rogers, there you are. I’ve been looking for you all over.” she greeted softly.

Steve felt like he was trapped between a rock and a hard place, and he took a step away from both women, his brows furrowed. “Romanoff,” he acknowledged.

“Carter, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Natasha remarked, surprised, although Steve could tell the spy seemed angry – but about what, he couldn’t tell.

“Oh, Sam called me. Ross and Stark are on my tail about the fact that I gave Steve and Sam their gear back.” Sharon replied, flashing the redhead a smile that wasn’t fully genuine, but wasn’t exactly fake like Natasha’s had been either. Natasha gave Sharon a nod in response, and then her hand curled around Steve’s bicep.

“Can we have a talk, Steve? In private?” She looked pointedly at Sharon when she said she wanted to talk in private.

“I’ll give you two some space. Get back to me on my offer though, Steve.” Sharon smiled again, and walked off.

As soon as the CIA agent was gone, Natasha turned to Steve, pushing him up against the wall, her green eyes hard with anger. “What the _hell_ was that all about?” she hissed, just about seething with anger. Steve held up his hands defensively – although it was difficult because she had him pinned – and said, “What was what about? What are you talking about, Natasha?”

“Going back to calling me by my last name. Flirting with Carter.” Natasha said harshly.

“Flirting with Carter?!” Steve exclaimed, instantly becoming angry himself. “You think I was _flirting_ with _her_? For Pete’s sake, Natasha, she came onto me like... like a moth attracted to light! I’m not interested in her. Not when the only person I have eyes for is you.”

Natasha folded her arms across her chest, disbelief clear on her face. “Oh really? Then why do I recall her touching your arm?”

Steve shook his head. “It was all her.”

“But why is she all of a sudden so interested in you when you never spare her a second glance?”

“Because we kissed, okay! It was after she gave Sam and I our gear, and I projected my past feelings for Peggy onto her, and I kissed her. That was _before_ you and I started sleeping together. Long before.” Steve answered, his voice like flint. “There, is that the explanation you wanted?”

“So you’re not interested in her at all whatsoever?” Natasha demanded.

“No. Hell no. She’s not my type. You are. I only ever see you.” Steve’s voice had softened, and he dropped his defensive posture. “I’ve only ever seen you since the day I met you on the Helicarrier.”

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly with surprise, and she opened and closed her mouth a few times. Then, she kissed him, passionate and demanding, before turning and walking away. Pausing, she said over her shoulder, “You should only ever have eyes for me from now on.” And then she was gone, leaving Steve absolutely confused, and longing to tell her how he truly felt.


	7. Buck Again

**A/N: Guess who's Buck? Buck again.  
If nobody gets why I said this... well.**

* * *

 

"So, you and Romanoff, huh?" the familiar, teasing tone interrupted Steve out of his thought train, and the blonde glanced up, furrowing his brows as he tried to work out what to say to his best friend.

"'Me and Romanoff'." he repeated, "There is no 'me and Romanoff'. There's no _us_."

"Really? 'Cause I seem to think that there's _somethin'_ goin' on between you two. I ain't blind." Bucky responded, giving his friend an all-knowing smirk.

Steve rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest and shaking his head. "She's just a friend, Buck. Nothin' more."

"Well, that pinin' look you were givin' her the other day tells me otherwise." Bucky fired back, raising an eyebrow. "C'mon. Why don't you gather up your nerve and ask her on a date?"

"Because she's not that kind of person, okay?" Steve was instantly defensive, and he didn't like it. Since when had he gotten this mad at his friend over a _girl_? It just wasn't right; an uneasy feeling settled in his chest.

"Believe me, Barnes, if there was an _us_ , I'd be sitting a lot closer to Steve than I am now." Natasha finally rang in with her own comment, not even bothering to look up from the thick paperback she was reading. "If you really think he's looking after me like a lovesick puppy, don't you think I would have confronted him about it by now? Don't you think that everyone else would know about it, too?"

"Fair point, Romanoff, fair point." Bucky gave her that. But he wasn't going to back down; no way in hell. Not after he saw his pal macking on that redhead like she was the apple of his eye. If he could fold his arms across his chest to make himself look more intimidating, he would have. He simply settled for a rather dark look – albeit one with no real heat behind it – and leaned against the wall. "But what I saw the other day – I mean, come on, you two. There's _something_ there. I'm not blind. I've only ever seen Steven Grant Rogers look at another woman in the same way, and with nowhere near as much intensity as he looked at you, Romanoff. Spill. I know there's something between you two."

Natasha opened her mouth to reply, but she suddenly felt really sick, and she quietly excused herself, rising from her seat and setting her paperback down. She really had to rein in some self-control to not bolt for the nearest bathroom; she wanted to throw up that bad.

Steve watched as Natasha left, furrowing his brow in confusion, before glancing back at Bucky, meeting his friend's gaze. He couldn't exactly lie to his friend, so, he told him the truth. "There really is nothing between us... We just... Slept together a couple times – and not in the platonic sense. That's all."

"You dog!" Bucky exclaimed, laughing. He leaned across and punched Steve in the arm, his eyes bright and sparkling with mischief. "You finally did the deed – and with a woman who can kick your ass, no less!"

Steve was happy that Bucky was laughing and smiling again – he really was – but right now, he wasn't in the mood for any ribbing. Especially not over his current... _relationship_ with Natasha. Whatever it was. "C'mon, Buck," he pleaded, "That's not fair. She's just... She's got trust and commitment issues. We have each other's backs, and we... were... close friends. I don't even know what we are anymore."

Realization dawned upon Bucky, and he instantly looked sympathetic, clasping Steve's shoulder in a show of support. "You're head over heels for her, aren't you?" he asked, voice unusually soft and kind – so much more like the old James Barnes than ever.

Steve nodded, feeling himself relax a little at the familiar, old contact. "Yeah. More than I ever loved Peggy, and that's sayin' somethin', ya know?"

"I know," Bucky's voice had dropped to a low murmur, and he really did feel bad for Steve. Poor guy had slept with the woman he was in love with – probably her idea, seeing as she was that kind of person – and now he had no clue what was going on between them. "I'm sorry, pal."

"Thanks, Buck." Steve was relieved that Bucky – no matter how dark and damaged he was – was there for him in his time of need, just as he'd always been.

Bucky nodded, giving his friend a small smile, and dropped his hand again. His smile quickly changed to a mischievous smirk, and he asked with a twinkle in his stormy blue eyes, "So, you really did sleep with her – not platonically?"

Steve rolled his eyes, and bobbed his head in response. "Yeah. Twice, actually."

"What's she like?" Bucky asked cheekily.

" _Bucky_!" Steve squawked, feeling his face heat up, and although he shot his friend a glare, it was only half-hearted, because deep down he was glad his friend was up to his old tricks. "It's... That's not... Oh, for goodness' sake, Buck, that's _not_ how you're supposed to talk about dames! Oh hell, now you've got me usin' 40s slang, you jerk!"

"Punk," the word slipped out of Bucky's mouth without a second's thought, and it seemed so familiar that he felt an odd warmth flare up in his chest, that reminded him of hot chocolates – _what?_ – and warm blankets, and sitting by the campfire swapping ghost stories with the Commandos – _huh?_ It was... it was something that gave him the feeling of... _home_. Something he hadn't felt in so long, and it made tears prick at the corners of his vision.

"Buck? You okay?" That voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he glanced at Steve, who was giving him this worried, mother hen-type look. He rolled his eyes and slugged the blonde in the shoulder, feeling strangely relaxed.

"'M'fine," he muttered.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Steve remarked, relaxing again.

"Nah. Just don't remember sayin' that, is all." Bucky replied, raking his hand through his hair, and nearly losing his balance in the process.

Steve went to steady his friend, but the brunette shot him a look, and he dropped the hand he'd instinctually raised. "You said that a couple days ago... After you were pulled out of cryo."

"Forgot," Bucky mumbled, suddenly feeling... upset.

"It's okay, Buck. Comes and goes, right?" Steve did move his hand, but to set on Bucky's shoulder and give it a squeeze.

Bucky nodded, feeling his tense muscles relax again. How Steve managed to calm him when his emotions became too much, he didn't know. Maybe it was because the guy was like a brother to him. "Yeah. A lot. But... Most of it's sticking."

"I'm glad." Steve said warmly.

"Me too," Bucky agreed.


	8. Avoidance

**A/N: A friendship blooms between two hard-done-by assassins... thanks to the one thing they have in common – their idiot friend.**

* * *

 

Mentally cursing at one Steven Grant Rogers, Natasha threw up into the toilet yet again. Oh, how she hated the fact that he left them in this situation, rather than gathering his nerve and actually talking to her about what kind of relationship they were in, and what kind of relationship he wanted. They weren’t friends with benefits, per se, but there was no way in hell they were lovers, either. So, what were they?

Groaning and wincing, she made to move away from the toilet, thinking she was done. _Mistake_. The bile rose in the back of her throat, and she turned back to the toilet, throwing up once more. Natasha leaned back, closing her eyes. She waited five minutes, and felt a small sense of relief when her stomach decided to settle and stay that way. She flushed the toilet, but remained in a crouch, too weak to get up and rinse her mouth out just yet.

“Are you alright, Romanoff?” The familiar-yet-unfamiliar masculine tone reached her ears, and she turned her head to see one Bucky Barnes staring down at her with confusion and – was that concern? – in his stormy blue eyes. Natasha shook her head, finally managing to rise from her feet to pad over to the sink and rinse her mouth out with water. “No,” she said, voice a little rough. She turned to face Barnes, and pursed her lips, wondering how in hell he had found her, and why on earth was he here.

“I was just, uh... I was tryna find you to thank you for savin’ my ass back in Schkeuditz. You didn’t have to – you could have easily overpowered me and just let Steve go, but you didn’t. So, thankyou.” he explained, voice quiet, eyes downcast slightly. “I didn’t quite expect to find you in a bathroom throwing up your breakfast into the toilet.” He shifted, feeling uncomfortable, before his eyes flickered up to meet her gaze, trying to work out what she was thinking.

Natasha shrugged, giving him a small, half-hearted smirk. “You’re Steve’s oldest friend – and not just by age – and I heard you were a pretty great guy despite all the damage and darkness inside you. I know what it’s like. I gave you a chance, because I felt you deserved one.”

Bucky smiled shyly, his eyes twinkling. “So, you’re Steve’s girl, huh?”

Again, a shrug. “We’re... Trying to work that out,” she admitted, “It’s hard. He’s... You know...”

Bucky let out a low chuckle, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah. I know. Stupid punk still doesn’t know how to talk to women. Never has.”

“Oh, and it’s Natasha.” the redhead said with a smirk that wasn’t as small or as half-hearted as the last, olive green eyes showing a touch of friendliness.

“Well, if we’re going with the formalities, then call me Bucky.” the brunette responded easily, raking a hand through his hair. “You got the flu or somethin’?” He now went back to his original question – wondering what was wrong. Natasha pressed her lips into a thin line, seeming neither upset or angry. Just displeased in general. “It’s all Steve’s fault. Him and his bloody Super Serum... And it bypassed the fact that I’m sterilized.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, and his eyebrows shot up to almost disappear into his hairline. “Wait... Are you saying that you’re-...?” He left the question hanging, in complete and utter disbelief.

“Yes, and it’s all Steve’s fault! I don’t want to have a baby! It’s not fair!” Natasha wailed, suddenly feeling upset. “Damn these hormones.” She burst into tears and went to Bucky, hugging him tight.

Bucky was alarmed and confused, but he figured out pretty quick that he better to something to help the poor woman – lest she kick his ass. He awkwardly put his right arm around her, letting her tears soak his shirt.

“You’re warm and muscular like Steve is,” Natasha muttered by way of explanation into the soft material of Bucky’s shirt, sniffling and trying to regain some composure.

“How long have you known?” Bucky asked quietly, still confused, but more curious than anything.

“Just found out this morning. After I left Steve’s room, I threw up, and then went to the doctors. I’m ten days pregnant.” Natasha admitted, clinging to the muscular brunette like a lifeline – and seeming like she wasn’t going to be letting go anytime soon.

“I’m sorry?” Bucky offered up lamely, the sentiment coming out as more of a question, since he was still so bloody confused.

Natasha laughed and pulled away, wiping at her face. “That sounds so corny and pathetic. Like something Steve would say.”

Bucky found himself laughing along with the redhead spy. “Classic Steve. He’s a bit of a romantic.”

“A lost puppy romantic is more like it,” Natasha quipped dryly, and they both laughed again, knowing that was pretty true about the big blonde. Once they had both sobered and quietened, Bucky inquired kindly, “Are you alright now?” Natasha shrugged, looking indifferent.

“I’m a big girl; I’ll cope. But thankyou.” Bucky nodded, and he was already halfway out of the room when he heard Natasha call after him, “And if you tell Steve, so help me I’ll chop your other arm off!”

He couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, pause, and say over his shoulder with a cocky smirk, eyes twinkling, “I wouldn’t dream of it!”

* * *

 

“Miss Romanoff, I did not expect to see you here.” T’Challa greeted, looking rather surprised.

“Well, I decided it was high time I visited some of my friends,” Natasha said, half lying and half telling the truth. She gave him a small, slightly forced smile, hands by her sides. “I wanted to ask you something, Your Highness.”

The young king turned to face her, his brown eyes warm and friendly and open – of course, that only served to remind her of Steve, which made her more determined to go through with this. “What is it you require, Miss Romanoff?”

“I was just wondering... if perhaps I hid out somewhere in Wakanda... maybe I could be protected? Hidden from everyone else? I need to lay low for awhile, and as much as I enjoy staying in your palace, I need to... avoid my friends.” Natasha explained, feeling a little awkward.

“That is no problem, Miss Romanoff. I will send some of my Dora Milaje with you. Wherever you go, you will be safe.” T’Challa assured the Russian spy, eager to help her out, although, deep down, he was confused as to why she was hiding from her friends.

Natasha nodded, smiling a bit more genuinely this time. “Thankyou, Your Highness,” she said warmly.

“Please, call me T’Challa,” the king stated with a smile.

“Then call me Natasha.” the redhead returned easily. T’Challa nodded with another smile, and Natasha left the dining hall, feeling a little more at ease now.


	9. Love

**A/N: Annd, here we have a timejump of a couple of months – which is glossed over. This is also the final chapter! I hope you folks have enjoyed this wild ride as much as I have – and I hope you will continue to enjoy my stories!**

**P.S.: There will be an epilogue. 'Cause I couldn't finish on an uneven number of chapters, and I felt that an epilogue was required.**

* * *

 

Time flew by. Steve became so busy with taking care of Bucky, making sure Clint got home safely, urging Wanda to go with Clint, and encouraging Scott to go to see his daughter, that he didn't notice Natasha was gone.

Well, he did, but the redhead was at the back of his mind, and he found it a little unusual that she wasn't around.

One rainy day, nearly two months since he had last seen her, he sat and stared out the window, pondering her whereabouts. Was she still in Wakanda? Or had she returned to New York – to have a discussion with Stark. Or was she somewhere else, deciding to lay low elsewhere – away from him.

Even though it was raining, Steve decided to take a walk. He shrugged on a hoodie and runners, and went outside. Soon enough, the rain stopped, revealing a pale blue sky with nary a cloud in sight, the sun warming and drying the damp earth. He wandered the palace grounds, hands in his pockets and mind wrapped in his thoughts. And that was why he didn't notice Natasha, right before walking smack into her. He let out a startled, surprised yelp and took a step back, staring at the redhead who lay sprawled on the ground, staring up at him and looking equally as surprised. He silently offered her a hand up, and she gratefully accepted, rising to her feet and dusting her pants off. The soldier and the spy stared at each other, blue eyes locked onto green. Neither moved; neither spoke for what seemed a very long time. Eventually, it was Natasha who broke the silence. "Steve..." His name fell from her lips in a bare whisper.

"Nat," Steve murmured, taking a step closer to her, his baby blue orbs locked onto her olive green ones.

"Steve... I-I'm pregnant," Natasha breathed out, fear showing in her eyes. That was unusual – the redhead spy almost never showed when she was afraid. She was clearly very disturbed by the fact that she was with child – and Steve's child, no less.

Steve was stunned; his eyes widened and his lips parted slightly in shock, his brain struggling to work out what to say to her. This was something he'd always dreamed of: a family, with the girl of his dreams. "Nat, you're-...? This is amazing. I... I want to be with you forever, and don't you dare say it's just because you're carrying my child. That isn't the case, and I need you to know that I love you and I'll- mmfff." He was silenced by Natasha pressing her lips to his, her arms looped around his neck.

"I love you too," she whispered, drawing away after a few moments. Steve's hand came up to gently cup her face, and he smiled, before pulling her close for a soft, chaste kiss. They remained locked together like that for what seemed an eternity, until they slowly pulled away from one another; still remaining as close as possible. "So it's true, Nat? I'm gonna be a dad?" Steve asked with a soft grin.

Natasha nodded, smiling up at him. "Yeah. I'm only three months along. You can feel it." She took his hand, guiding it down to her abdomen and placing it there gently. "See?"

Steve was stunned into silence once more as he felt the faint baby bump beneath his fingers, and he glanced back up at Natasha, his eyes glittering and showing so many emotions. Happiness. Surprise. And most important of all, love. "This is amazing. I... I can't believe I'm actually gonna be a dad. And with a woman like you, no less. I love you so much, Tasha."

"I love you too, you idiot," Natasha muttered, throwing her arms around Steve's neck and pulling him close for another kiss. She soon pulled away, resting her head on Steve's shoulder. "So, what are we, exactly?"

Steve's chuckle was low and deep and happy, rumbling up from within and reverberating through her. "It's up to you, Tasha. Friends, lovers, partners... Boyfriend and girlfriend, maybe?" He gave her a sheepish little grin, kissing her forehead.

To his surprise, Natasha laughed at that. "I'm pretty proud to be calling you my boyfriend, Rogers," she smirked.

"I gotta say, I'm definitely proud to be calling you my girlfriend, _Romanoff_." Steve shot back, putting emphasis on her surname just because she'd called him by his.

"You'll stay with me no matter what, right?" Natasha asked timidly, suddenly looking small and childlike in his arms. Steve smiled lovingly down at Natasha – _his_ Natasha – and kissed her forehead once more, nuzzling his cheek against hers.

"I promise, Natasha. I'm always gonna be by your side, no matter what kind of shit we go through. No matter what happens between us. Because now that I'm yours, and you're mine, there's nothing on this earth that can tear us apart." he avowed softly.

Natasha's eyes welled with tears – albeit tears of relief – at his words, and hugged him tighter, burying her face into his broad chest and relishing in his scent; the safety and comfort he brought. His words touched her heart; her heart that which for so long had been frozen and empty was now thawing and filled with Steven Grant Rogers: supersoldier, Avenger, Captain, her best friend, partner, lover, boyfriend, and father of her unborn child. She was his forever, and she knew his words would ring true – she had seen how he had gone to the ends of the earth to get Bucky back, and he would do the same for her.

"You hungry?" Steve asked, breaking the content silence – but not his loving embrace.

Natasha nodded, gazing up at Steve again. "Actually, I'm starved. Can we get burgers to eat?"

Steve chuckled, throwing his arm around her shoulders as they walked back towards the palace together. "Anything you like, love. Anything at all."

Little did the pair know, but a pair of blue eyes belonging to a shadowy figure watched them from far off. The war was over, but the battle had just begun.


	10. Home

**A/N: Here we are, folks! The epilogue to this wonderful story! I thank all of you lovelies who have taken the time to review my story; all your reviews brightened my day!**   
**And a big shout-out to my special pal RavensPerch on wattpad: thankyou so much for your ideas and critiques. You’ve really helped me out a lot, and I’m so grateful you’re my friend.**

**Okay, so that’s probably my longest author’s note ever, so on with the story, haha!**

* * *

 

Two months had passed since the day Steve and Natasha _finally_ admitted their feelings for each other. They hadn’t been apart since – in fact, they were closer than ever. They opened up about their pasts, each divulging the things that caused them nightmares, and sharing silly stories of what they got up to with their other best friends.

And now Steve was walking along the beach, hand-in-hand with his beautiful Natasha, who, at five months pregnant, was happy and healthy, with a glow about her.

He was dressed in tan shorts and a blue shirt; on his feet were white Converse. Natasha wore a long, flowing sundress, and a pair of strappy sandals. They’d taken their shoes off as they walked along the shoreline, the water lapping at their feet. Not far off, Sam and Bucky were involved in a vigorous game of Frisbee with Steve’s shield as... well, the Frisbee. Bucky’s brand new metal arm – courtesy of T’Challa – shone in the sunlight, the freshly painted symbol – Steve’s shield – catching Steve’s eye and making him grin. And underneath the shield, were the words, _property of the Rogers family_.

Yes, property of the Rogers family. Really. Although Natasha and Steve weren’t married, and hadn’t discussed ever getting married, they’d pretty much decided that their unborn child was going to have Steve’s surname, and that perhaps someday, five years or so down the track, Natasha would become Steve’s wife. And Bucky was Steve’s best friend (and Natasha’s, too), so it only made sense that he and his arm were labelled as such.

Sam, too, had grown closer to not only Natasha, but also Bucky. And when the day came that Natasha and Steve learnt the gender of their child, Bucky and Sam had been the first ones to know. Steve chuckled, remembering that day well:

“ _Congratulations, Miss Romanoff, you are pregnant with a healthy boy_ ,” _the doctor stated proudly._

_Steve and Natasha had shared a look, beaming, and they kissed with tears in their eyes, before Steve went to tell his idiot ‘brother’ and smart-alec wingman that poor Natasha was still outnumbered – there was a baby boy on the way. Bucky and Sam had laughed and grinned, thumping Steve on the shoulder in a congratulatory manner, and once Natasha had come out of the room, they both gave her a kiss on the cheek which caused her to blush._

That had been one of the best days of his life, and Steve earnestly hoped that there were more to come.

“What are you laughing about, Mr-5am-Run?” Natasha asked teasingly, looking up at her boyfriend with a smile and loving eyes.

“Oh, I was just remembering the day we discovered we were having a boy. Sam and Bucky’s faces... man...” Steve responded, ducking his head down to kiss her cheek.

Natasha smiled more, leaning into his side. “I think Bucky’s face was the most priceless when we told him that we were naming our son after him. Poor baby actually lost it and started crying.”

Steve rolled his eyes good-naturedly, moving away from the shoreline somewhat. “I’m sure you’d do the same, Tasha,” Natasha just laughed and lightly smacked Steve upside the head, before choosing a spot to sit, curling her toes into the warm sand.

“What’re you doin’, Tasha? I told you we were gonna walk a bit further.” Steve reminded his girlfriend, who merely whined and offered his hand up before following him further along the shoreline. She stood at the edge of the water, enjoying the feel of the waves lapping at her feet and the cool breeze on her skin, and so she didn’t notice Steve had moved away from her somewhat until he tapped her on the shoulder. Natasha turned, absolutely stunned to see Steve getting down on one knee, pulling a box out of the pocket of his shorts.

“Natasha Romanoff, if that is even your real name, will you-” he started to ask, but Natasha cut him off with a smirk.

“Help you up, old man?” she asked teasingly, “Sure, but on one condition.”

Steve was absolutely confused as he stared up at his girlfriend – he knew she was teasing him. “...And that is?”

“Marry me,” the two words slipped from the redhead’s lips without hesitation. She knew Steve loved her, and she loved him enough to want this. Want _them_ , forever. They’d known each other for a good four years now – it was about damn time they decided to stay together forever.

Steve’s eyes widened, and as soon as he said yes, voice ever so faint, Natasha helped him up and pulled him in for a deep, passionate kiss, arms wrapped around his neck. “I love you, Steven Grant Rogers,” she murmured against his lips.

“And I love you, Natalia Alianovna Rogers,” Steve whispered back.

Natasha smirked and pulled away, tapping his nose. “Not just yet, handsome,” she muttered, resting her head on his shoulder. Steve just laughed, sliding the ring onto her finger, and giving her hand a squeeze.

“Hey, lovebirds, are you two done canoodling yet? Because birdboy and I would like to know if we’re going to still have pizza for dinner or not.” Bucky called, grabbing the couple’s attention to their friends whom they’d abandoned some time ago.

Steve turned to face his old friend; Natasha pressed up against his side, and chuckled, walking over. “Yeah, of course. C’mon you two miscreants. Someone’s gotta keep you two from tearing each other’s heads off.” Bucky rolled his eyes and slugged Steve in the arm as the blonde passed, falling into step beside him. His keen eyes, which missed next to nothing, caught the flash of something on Natasha’s hand, and he glanced at his best friends with a puzzled expression. “Uh, are you guys-...?”

“Engaged? Yes.” Steve held up Natasha’s left hand, which, as Bucky had seen, had a beautiful ring on her wedding finger. “And because Natasha’s a smartass, she had to make a joke of it and ruin my speech.”

“Oh hush, Rogers, you liked my teasing anyway,” Natasha muttered, messing his hair.

“Not the hair!” Steve yelped, ducking away and jogging off – he was going to order the food, and it didn’t matter if the others were walking back with him or not. Natasha rolled her eyes, quite content to have Bucky as her walking companion. “So, you enjoyed your game of Frisbee?”

Bucky let out a chuckle, backflipping as he walked without breaking stride. “Yup,”

“Wow, you’re quite the gymnast, Barnes,” Natasha remarked with a smirk, barely noticing as Sam fell into step beside her.

“Dude would not stop backflipping and frontflipping and side-flipping and all types of gymnastics shit when we were playing Frisbee. It’s Frisbee – you don’t need to bother with theatrics.” Sam muttered, slightly envious.

Bucky snorted, rather gently cuffing the airman around the back of the head. “You’re just jealous.” he retorted.

“Boys, keep the arguments of who’s the best to the battlefield.” Natasha jumped in before their little game could escalate into a full-blown challenge. “Let’s just go back to the suite and enjoy the pizza that my fiancé is no doubt already ordering.”

“Bossy much,” Sam said under his breath, and then his eyes widened. “Wait, did you say _fiancé_?” He let out a squawk of disbelief. “Steve popped the question?”

Natasha laughed softly. “Yes, he did. And honestly, I’m glad he did. There’s nobody else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with – besides my friends, of course.”

“Congratulations,” Sam said warmly, and Bucky echoed him since he hadn’t said it yet. Natasha smiled at her companions, and smiled wider as they let her enter the suite first – after holding the door for her, too. “Thankyou,” she said, and she could hear Steve say it at the same time as her as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her.

She was finally home.


End file.
